I write about things I do hear of and see
And I've written a lot perhaps too much maybe
My better days in life to the forever gone
But for as long as I can write I will keep penning on
I cannot lay claim to the title of poet
Or I am not one worthy of literary note
I am an aging bloke two years with three score
And I write for enjoyment that and little more
Where many so many are out to impress
In a world of millions of writers few know of success
And few very few ever make writing pay
We all can't be winners as some like to say
I write about things that I see every day
Perhaps I am meant for to live in this way.
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